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Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance)

Page 11

by Brint, Cynthia


  Bristling, he stood up to his full height. Towering over me, Ethlyn stepped forward; once, poignant. “For someone who thinks they're talking to a murderer, you've got some attitude.”

  “I'm not scared of you.” I wished my voice was stronger.

  “You put on a good act, but I can feel your fear wafting off in chunks.”

  “Shut up,” I mumbled, wishing I could nonchalantly wipe the perspiration from my face. “If you're not here to kill me, then tell me what you want. I'm tired of being stalked by you and your friends.”

  Scoffing, he turned partially away. “Nethiun isn't my friend. He's trash, I want nothing to do with him. And,” he went on, glancing back to me, “neither should you. He's bad news.”

  “You still haven't told me anything useful,” I muttered. I already know Nethiun is bad news. Kind of, anyway.

  I didn't have time to dwell on that.

  Shaking his head, he scrubbed at his hair in exasperation. “Don't you get it? I'm trying to help you!”

  “Are you?” I asked, my temper growing sour. “You tried to drop a sign on me!”

  “I was confirming for someone else that Nethiun was following you!”

  “Great! That makes it better!”

  “I already said I would have saved—”

  Pushing on, yelling over him, I wasn't listening. My confidence was growing, I felt sure that I was in no danger. Ethlyn could easily kill me, he'd had no trouble tracking me down. It was clear something was stopping him.

  Something that was stopping all of them.

  “You're also tricking my friend, which is extremely sick of you!”

  Astonishment twisted his features. “That... that's not...”

  His own surprise struck me silent, tamped down my rising rage until it became nothing but slow burning uncertainty. “Is it something else you were 'instructed' to do by the person above you? Which is it, the King, the Queen? Or the Duke?” I asked, thinking about the seals in the book.

  He reached out, like he was about to grab me. At the last second, he halted, hands floating in the air uselessly. “You know about them? How, did Nethiun...? No, even he wouldn't go so far as to tell you that.”

  Not entirely true, I thought silently. He did sort of give me the groundwork, he just never stated a title or any names.

  Inhaling deeply, I looked Ethlyn over, considering what he'd said so far. “You really want me to think you're on my side? Then let's try this. Tell me who you answer to, and what they want with me.”

  Kicking at the ground, the way a scolded child might, he grunted. “I can't tell you what they want with you, because I don't know yet, myself.”

  Rubbing at my cheeks, I started to twist away. “So, you're no better than Nethiun.”

  “No, wait,” he said quickly, reaching out in a strangely appeasing way. He acted nothing like the calm, asserted person I'd seen last night, nor the frightening beast that had glared down at me while fighting Nethiun. His reactions confused me, but... they were enough to pull me back.

  Sighing, he met my eyes with his serious golden eyes. “Let me finish. All I know, is that whatever Nethiun is up to, it's bad for you. His Mistress is having him follow you, and I promise, whatever she is up to is not good for you.”

  His... Mistress?

  Does that mean, Nethiun follows the Queen, what's her name again? Canen-something. I'll look it up later. “What do you mean, not good for me?”

  “I mean that there is no way someone like her has anything but something sinister planned for you, Gale. And that includes Nethiun, since he answers to her.”

  The first icy, clawing talons of doubt began creeping up my back. “Sinister? You're telling me you think I'm in danger from him?” It isn't like I didn't have some suspicions, but... but he saved me, he saved me and he didn't need to. Right?

  Perhaps he saw the consternation on my face, because he seemed to perk up. “You're thinking about it now, aren't you? It isn't as if it's difficult to imagine someone like him being dangerous, right? He'll do whatever his Mistress tells him to, Gale. He's got no qualms with brutality, you saw us fighting that night.”

  I did see that, but all I can remember is how scary Ethlyn was. But, if I put that aside, Nethiun was just as intimidating. Is Ethlyn right, am I not seeing the danger here? Am I being naïve?

  Stepping forward, I gave him a plaintive look. “Alright, Ethan—no—Ethlyn, tell me about the twaelin you're answering to. You say you don't know what they want with me either, fine, but you obviously know the name of the person above you.”

  His chuckle was grating. “So he told you my name. How nice of him. Guess that shouldn't shock me.”

  I said nothing, I just stared up at him intently.

  Leaning away, Ethlyn rubbed at his neck. “I wasn't explicitly told not to tell you, but I have a feeling if I did, he'd be very angry. I really wish I could say it, Gale, but... making him upset would probably get me killed.”

  “Twaelin can't die,” I said bluntly.

  There, that was real surprise on his hard features. “Nethiun told you that, too? Tsk, he's got no regard for anyone but himself.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he looked down at me once more. “Fine. Yes. But we don't come back if we're destroyed. Not unless the source of our energies brings us back. We're part of them, they can do as they want with us.”

  Gaping, something finally clicked with me. “Are you both slaves to the guys above you?”

  Ethlyn hesitated, but it was enough of an answer.

  The wind seemed much colder suddenly.

  “That's terrible,” I whispered. Do they have any freedom, then? Or, if their life is really at the whim of their creators, are they forced to obey them?

  “It's not so bad,” he said softly, entirely unconvincingly.

  Contemplating the tilt to his eyes, how he seemed to have trouble looking my way, I took a small step forward. “Listen,” I started, struggling to know how to word my thoughts, “if you're being commanded to watch me, or follow me or whatever, like Nethiun is... I get it, fine. You guys are being told what to do. But even so, I need you to do something for me.”

  “What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, I grit my teeth and fixed him with the most intimidating glare I could. “I need you to leave Becky alone.”

  “Oh?” he asked, his smirk growing. “Jealous of the attention she's getting?”

  Pointing at him fiercely, I kept my voice level even as my face burned like the sun. “Keep away from her. You're clearly sticking around Becky as an excuse to be near me, for whatever reason you won't tell me. She's my friend, I don't want her getting hurt.”

  His shadow fell across me, one arm pressing onto the wall beside my head. He was too close, too velvety as he spoke. “You're smart enough to understand I can't stop keeping an eye on you. So let's make a trade. I'll leave Becky alone, if you,” he said, voice dropping an octave, “let me hang close by instead.”

  My heart felt like it had taken up residence in my mouth, making it hard to speak. “You—what? You're asking for me to... to just let you...”

  Those gold eyes burned right into me. “Date me, yes.”

  Why the heck would he want to date me?

  Does he want to date me?

  It could all be a ploy, all a big fake show... but isn't that what I would want? If I agreed to date him, would he really leave Becky alone? Maybe it would be a smart move... if it lets her be safe, keeps her out of this giant mess, shouldn't I consider it?

  But could I even go through with that? That first night, at the club, I did kind of fall over him and how hot he was, I could pretend easily enough that I... that I...

  The way he was smiling down at
me was turning my insides to water. No, no what am I thinking? Doing this would just make ME the one that hurts Becky. If she saw us walking around hand-in-hand, it isn't like I could explain it away to her as 'keeping her safe' or something.

  No, there's just no way. This can't happen.

  Trembling down to my knees, I wrenched my gaze away. “No, I won't agree to something like that. I can't! Don't be ridiculous.”

  I saw a flicker of something akin to being insulted. “It's a simple exchange. You get what you want, I get what I want.”

  And what does he want, to do his job? Or more? That idea didn't help the bubbling in my chest. “No, I won't.” Ducking under his arm, I brushed past Ethlyn, standing in the middle of the grassy short-cut. “I couldn't handle hurting Becky, did you not consider her feelings at all?”

  “You're the one asking me to keep away from her, Gale,” he said with scrutiny.

  He's right, I just... I don't know what to do anymore. Flustered, I tugged at my sleeves. “You can't ask people to agree to that sort of stuff.”

  “Humans go on dates, begin relationships, all the time! Just like this, they ask them out!” He sounded like he was trying to debate with me.

  “Well,” I mumbled. “Humans do that, okay. But someone like you shouldn't be.”

  The twaelin flinched, as if my words had hurt him. “Someone like me, you say.” Glancing upwards, to the stormy sky above, he went quiet.

  For a moment, we stood there together. The more I thought about how I'd phrased myself, how Ethlyn's jaw was tight with displeasure, the more I wanted to apologize. Maybe that was too harsh. He's sort of awkward, I think. I should try to explain myself better, but—but he really was just asking me out to help his own Master, wasn't he?

  I couldn't tell where the feelings began or the suspicion ended. Did twaelin even have feelings? Nethiun had told me they could feed on the ones humans projected, were twaelin lacking somehow?

  All the questions I had, and Ethlyn's petulant scowl didn't make him seem open to hearing them.

  Turning back to me, he breathed through his nose. “You don't mind Nethiun's company, but me, well. I guess I don't fit your requirements.”

  “Wait, that isn't—”

  “I'll try to do it,” he said briskly, not meeting my confused stare. Instead, he seemed busy studying his fingernails. “I won't use her to get close to you. I'll continue my surveying, but on my own terms.”

  It was hard to believe him, it was just too easy. “Seriously? You'll leave her alone?”

  “Well, I won't pursue her anymore. I can't promise she'll leave me alone, though. That girl seems infatuated with me.”

  Frowning, I knew he was right. Becky had already professed her budding love to me, she wouldn't give up on Ethlyn so easily. “Tell me what you'll do instead.”

  “Pushy,” he chuckled. “Isn't it obvious? I'll keep pretending I'm a student here. It's an easy enough way to keep tabs.”

  “Can't you just do it like Nethiun does? Float around and just keep out of my every day life?”

  Ethlyn's frown was deep enough that it dug deep furrows along the corners of his mouth. “I'm not Nethiun, and I don't want to be Nethiun, so no. I won't play at being some figure in the shadows.”

  But why not? Eyeing him, I glanced back over my shoulder briefly. “You can't promise me that you won't be alone with Becky?”

  “I can do my best to not encourage her, but that's all.”

  “Fine. Stalemate or whatever. I'm leaving now, if that's not a problem.”

  Scratching at his nose, he shrugged noncommittally. “Fine. Whatever.”

  Watching him, daring him to do anything other than actually let me leave, I eventually spun on my heel. My arms, tight at my sides, didn't move as I marched hurriedly from that space between the buildings.

  It was only when I made it to the bustling commons that I finally breathed easier. I knew the public place was no more safe than anywhere else. However, if the twaelin were keeping any sort of guise up—as, at least, Ethlyn seemed to be—then it was as good as a panic room to me.

  I'm more breathless over everything that just happened, less because I'm scared of him, now. How weird, but I think... I think if he had wanted to hurt me, he would have. In fact, Ethlyn was the most forthcoming with information so far. He didn't play games like Nethiun did.

  Could the gold-eyed man actually be right about the twaelin I'd considered my savior? Why would Ethlyn lie to me? I guess, more like, why would he lie to me anymore than Nethiun would? They both seem to want to follow me around, but Ethlyn actually seemed worried for me.

  I didn't want to think that Nethiun was sinister, or that his 'Mistress' had less than stellar plans for me, but what argument did I have against those things?

  Sitting down on the stone wall around the circular area, I hung my head, listening vaguely to the sounds of students laughing, wandering, enjoying life.

  It was a backdrop to a painting I was no longer feeling a part of.

  Why can't I do something about this, about... all of this? Back there, when Ethlyn came after me and caught me, I felt so fragile.

  Remembering how he had called me bold, but commented on how the fear had been coming off of me in waves, was humiliating. What's the point in pretending to be confident, when twaelin can just sense my actual emotions?

  Tugging my fingers through my hair, I pulled roughly past the knots to free them. They're too powerful, how do I stand up to things like them? What would I even do if I could?

  All I have at this point is information. And, really, not much of that at all.

  Sitting up fast enough that I threatened to give myself whiplash, I dug into my backpack. Wait, that's right, Ethlyn gave me a name.

  Unfolding my wrinkled notebook paper, I stared down at the drawings, the names in their precise curling letters that I'd traced so carefully.

  There, the name 'Queen of Dreams' stood out even with the pencil smudges. This is the twaelin that Ethlyn said was Nethiun's 'Mistress.'

  That word, that made my belly clench in a way I didn't grasp. Something about it gave off an implication about the relationship between Nethiun and her. A thing I didn't like at all.

  Is he really a slave like Ethlyn claimed? Both of them, him and Nethiun, forced to follow orders about stalking me where I go, seeing what I do.

  It brought back to me the sadness that had been in Ethlyn's face when he explained it. To be forced to obey someone, it was an awful concept.

  Great, now I'm feeling bad for the guy who tried to kill me.

  He said he would have saved me. I'd really like to believe that, but there's no way I could verify it. I also don't know how comforting it is to think I was being used as a pawn to draw out Nethiun.

  Is Ethlyn being honest with me? He thinks he's on my side, or at least, that Nethiun is more dangerous somehow.

  Sighing, I stared down at my notes. The puzzle was getting a little clearer, but every new bit made things seem... bigger. More questions, and answers I didn't often like.

  If Nethiun is serving this Queen, Canendore, that leaves Ethlyn to follow one of these last two.

  Seeing the names again, I prayed it was the Duke of Creation. The other option, well...

  Corpse King sounds horrifying, ugh.

  Looking up at the sky, still eyeing the awful turmoil of dirty sink water, I closed my eyes against the breeze. Two twaelin, both following me around, all because the people above them want them to. That is the reason, right? Thinking about how Ethlyn had tried to convince me to date him made me blush.

  My world had gotten very weird.

  Hopping off the wall, I headed into the bakery across the way. Even with all the insanity disrupting my life, I co
uld still give myself some normalcy.

  Inside the building, I was greeted with a wonderful warmth. More than that, though, I found myself squishing between large groups of people. The entire bakery was packed.

  Why is it so busy?

  Struggling towards the counter, I spotted Josef with his arms moving rapidly. He was talking to several other workers, pointing like the commander of a ship.

  Watching people load up boxes, then roll them out the door, I decided it was a bad time.

  With my stomach gnawing at itself, I started to turn away.

  “Gale!” Josef shouted, making me freeze up under the sudden attention. When Josef yelled, everything stopped; his bellow was like a siren.

  Blushing to my neck, I glanced back to spot him waving at me. “Stay there, one second!”

  Too embarrassed to do much else, I stuck my hands deep in my jacket sleeves and waited. I'd expected Josef to come my way, but instead, he handed a paper bag to one of the many workers and pointed them to me.

  Meeting my eye for a moment, Josef flashed a giant grin.

  Blinking, I turned my attention to the young man who hurried over. “Here,” he said, smiling politely but looking exhausted, “this is for you, apparently.”

  Taking the bag, peering in at the familiar bread, I nodded. “Right, thanks.” He started to head back through the throngs, so I lifted my voice quickly. “Hold on a second, actually. Uh, what... what is all this, what's going on exactly?”

  Seeming to think I was kidding, he lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. “You don't know? Aren't you a student here?”

  “Ah, yes, but I mean...”

  Gesturing at the boxes that were being stuffed and stacked, he smoothed his dubious squint. “The Fall Festival is tonight, Josef is getting all the food for his stall ready to take down there now.”

  Understanding flooded me, to the point of making me laugh. “Oh. He did mention that, now that I think about it. Alright, thanks.”

  Giving me one more quick nod, the worker squeezed back into the fray.

  Looking at the counter, I caught Josef's eye and gave a quick wave. 'Thanks,' I mouthed at him, enjoying how he beamed in response.

 

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